


How do you solve a problem like Goldie?

by CannedTins



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Pining, angry old man, donald trying to be helpful and failing, i guess?, you have to let her go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 01:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18560926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannedTins/pseuds/CannedTins
Summary: Fic request from Orcadom/Domii. Prompt is “There are some things you’re just going to have to let go.”“Give up” was simply not in Scrooge McDuck’s phrasebook. He could get depressed (very easily, in fact), but he never completely gave up.He never gave up Goldie O’Gilt.





	How do you solve a problem like Goldie?

“Give up” was simply not in Scrooge McDuck’s phrasebook. He never thought to back down or shy away from any opportunity at adventure. Even when he had spiralled into despair after the Sunchaser incident, he still sprung back up at the very end to make ends meet and defeat Magica. He could get depressed (very easily, in fact), but he never completely gave up.

 

He never gave up Goldie O’Gilt.

 

No matter what happened between the two, at the caves of White Agony, or trapped within the ice for years, or anything else, he simply did not give her up. The fire inside him had roared for a century and a half and would likely roar for another 50 years. Gold may have been what made Scrooge rich in the first place, but Goldie did  _ something _ else to him.

 

Was it love?

 

The world-weary duck sat in his bed, holding the picture Goldie had sent him, XOXO’s and all. He was still in his robe, his top hat and cane by the door, his head low. Had anyone else seen him in the dimly-lit room, they’d have compared it to a scene from  _ Citizen Crane _ . Scrooge’s tired eyes were fixated onto the photo of Goldie. Her eyes---the picture was black-and-white, but he could see her brilliant blue eyes so clearly. Like diamonds. And that was not to say nothing about her hair, either.

 

He wondered the possibilities of not meeting her---would he still have struck it rich? Maybe the heartache, having gone on for entirely too long, would never have existed then. He wondered, but he did not want to think of it for too long. It was as if his life wasn’t complete without Goldie. He had many rivals of his own---Magica was the only one remotely formidable, Glomgold was totally incompetent and the Beagle Boys were all but petty burglars. Goldie was...different. Different in so many ways from the other rivals. Not even Magica had the same effect on Scrooge, not at all.

 

He loved Goldie, but he also hated her. He loved her shared passion for adventure and treasure, he loved her hair and eyes and alluring appearance, but they were still rivals. He disliked how she could be just as easily backstabbing as she could be trusting. Her want for riches matched Scrooge’s, and the two had to butt heads and make sure the other wasn’t planning to steal gold behind their back. That’s what he hated about her, and that’s what he loved about her, too.

 

Scrooge was still fixated on the picture as he heard knocking on his bedroom door. 

“Come in,” he said dryly. He didn’t even care who came in right now. Even if it was---

 

“Uncle Scrooge. You’ve been moping in there all day.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Donald walked over with his hands held in front of him, looking halfway between unsure and annoyed, “I thought we said it was game night.”

 

“I don’t care.”

 

Now Donald looked as if he’d been hit by a train, sputtering enough that it made his already warbled voice even more indecipherable, “Y-you  _ what?!” _

 

“I don’t care about game night right now, Donald,” Scrooge finally looked up, and Donald was shocked by the dark circles that had formed under his uncle’s eyes.

 

“Oh, uncle. You’re having one of those days again, aren’t you? Usually I’d expect you at the worry circle or something---”

 

“Donald,” Scrooge snapped.

 

The sailor wringed his hands nervously, “What...is wrong, uncle?”

 

Scrooge said nothing and instead looked back down at the picture he was holding. Donald mumbled something to himself and leaned over to see the picture, hoping Scrooge wouldn’t notice. As he saw the image of Goldie with the cheeky XOXO marks handwritten on it, Donald made a face, he should have known it had something to do with  _ her _ .

 

“It’s her again, isn’t it?”

 

He’d expected his uncle to make a move or look pissed-off as usual, but he just seemed so sad and desperate.

 

“How do you solve a problem like Goldie?”

 

Donald wasn’t sure what to think. He’d only set his mind on what to do for game night and was far from prepared to discuss past relationships with his 150-something year old uncle. But then he thought of it in a way he  _ could _ understand. Donald often had issues with his own girlfriend, Daisy. But despite their squabblings they still cared deeply for each other, with Daisy even offering to give him some comfort if anything had gone horribly wrong. She’d even defended Donald in front of Gladstone when no one would. Maybe it was a little like that. Only much, much more complicated.

“With Daisy, I just...I do lose my temper, but I try to let off steam, too, I don’t know---”

 

“It isn’t about _ you _ , Donald,” Scrooge said bitterly.

 

“No. Of course not.”

 

He continued to think about it, this time from a perspective that  _ wasn’t _ his own. He tried to recall what he knew about Scrooge and Goldie, their long-standing rivalry, backstabbing, love and hate. Perhaps love hurt. Perhaps, it had been so long that maybe Scrooge should just move on. Donald eventually moved on from his arguments with Daisy, so he could see how Scrooge would, if he could try.

 

Donald cleared his throat, “Uncle, I think, uh. I think you should move on.”

 

“What?” Scrooge shot him a look full of fire, making Donald flinch a little, but nonetheless the sailor continued.

 

“I think it’s been so, so long. I mean, this is even beyond my own lifespan. Eventually people have to move on, even you. What I’m trying to say is,  there are some things you’re just going to have to let go. You’ll have to let her go.” 

 

Scrooge’s expression went from that of desperation to fury, standing up from the bed to stare at Donald, the picture being crushed under his fist.

 

“Leave,” the old duck said, his voice dripping with anger.

 

“I’m sorry--”

 

“I said  _ leave _ !”

 

Scrooge picked up a pillow and aimed it towards his nephew, who immediately started for the door, quacking frantically. Donald could say some brave things, could  _ do _ some brave things, but he could also be a bigger chicken than Gyro. All that remained now were some extra quacks and yells of frustration coming from the other side of the room, then silence. 

 

Scrooge panted heavily, staring down at the pillow that he’d just thrown. He finally thought about what his nephew had said about moving on. But it was hard, even nearly unthinkable to consider forgetting about someone who had been a large part of his long lifespan and a source of so much contested feelings and emotion.

 

He un-crumbled the picture he had in his fist, and looked back at Goldie again.

 

_ “There are some things you’re just going to have to let go.”  _

 

He couldn’t.


End file.
